Part 2 / Act 5 — ACT V. SCENE I.

A Room in Brandino’s House.

Enter Philippa and Violetta.

Phil. How well this gentleman keeps his promise too!

Sure there’s no trust in man.

Vio. They’re all Franciscos,

That’s my opinion, mistress; fools, or false ones.

He might have had the honesty yet, i’faith,

To send my master’s clothes home.

420Phil. Ay, those clothes!

Vio. Colliers come by the door every day, mistress—

Nay, this is market-day too, poulterers, butchers;

They would have lain most daintily in a pannier,

And kept veal from the wind.

Phil. Those clothes much trouble me.

Vio. Faith, and^[669] he were a gentleman, as he seem’d

To be, they would trouble him too, I think;

Methinks he should have small desire to keep 'em.

Phil. Faith, and less pride to wear 'em, I should think, wench,

Unless he kept 'em as a testimony

For after-times, to shew what misery

He past in his young days, and then weep o’er 'em.

Vio. Weep, mistress?

Nay, sure, methinks he should not weep for laughing.

Enter Martino.

Phil. Martino? O, we’re spoil’d, wench! are they come then?

Mar. Mistress, be of good cheer, I’ve excellent news for you;

Comfort your heart. What have you to breakfast, mistress?

You shall have all again, I warrant you.

Phil. What says he, wench?

Vio. I’m loath to understand him.

Mar. Give me a note of all your things, sweet mistress;

You shall not lose a hair, take’t of my word;

We have him safe enough.

421Phil. O, 'las, sweet wench,

This man talks fearfully!

Vio. And I know not what yet;

That’s the worst, mistress.

Mar. Can you tell me, pray,

Whether the rascal has broke ope my desk or no?

There’s a fine little barrel of pome-citrons

Would have serv’d me this seven year: O, and my fig-cheese!

The fig^[670] of everlasting obloquy

Go with him, if he have eat it! I’ll make haste;

He cannot eat it all yet. He was taken, mistress,

Grossly and beastly; how do you think, i’faith?

Phil. I know not, sir.

Mar. Troth, in my master’s clothes:

Would any thief but a beast been taken so?

Phil. Wench, wench!

Vio. I have grief enough of mine own to tend, mistress.

Phil. Did he confess the robbery?

Mar. O no, no, mistress;

He’s a young cunning rascal, he confess’d nothing;

While we were examining on him, he took away

My master’s purse and mine, but confess’d nothing still.

Phil. That’s but some slanderous injury rais’d against him.—

[Aside.

Came not your master with you?

Mar. No, sweet mistress:

I must make haste and meet him; pray, despatch me then.

Phil. I’ve look’d o’er all with special heedfulness;

422There’s nothing miss’d, I can assure you, sir,

But that suit of your master’s.

Mar. I’m right glad on’t:

That suit would hang him, yet I would not have

Him hang’d in that suit though; it will disgrace

My master’s fashion for ever, and make it as hateful

As yellow bands.^[671] [Exit.

Phil. O what shall’s do, wench?

Vio. ’Tis no marvel, mistress,

The poor young gentleman could not keep his promise.

Phil. Alas, sweet man, has confess’d nothing yet, wench!

Vio. That shews his constancy and love to you, mistress:

But you must do’t of force, there is no help for’t,

The truth can neither shame nor hurt you much;

Let 'em make what they can on’t. 'Twere sin and pity, i’faith,

To cast away so sweet a gentleman

For such a pair of infidel hose^[672] and doublet;

I’d not hang a Jew for a whole wardrobe on 'em.

Phil. Thou say’st true, wench.

423Enter Martia, disguised as before.

Vio. O, O, they’re come again, mistress!

Phil. Signor Ansaldo?

Martia. The same; mightily cross’d, lady,

But, past hope, freed again by a doctor’s means,

A man of art, I know not justly what indeed;

But pity, and the fortunate gold you gave me,

Wrought my release between 'em.

Phil. Met you not

My husband’s man?

Martia. I took such strange ways, lady,

I hardly met a creature.

Phil. O, most welcome!

Vio. But how shall we bestow him now we have him, mistress?

Phil. Alas, that’s true!

Vio. Martino may come back again.

Phil. Step you into that little chamber speedily, sir,—

And dress him up in one of my gowns and head-tires,

His youth will well endure it.

Vio. That will be admirable.

Phil. Nay, do’t, do’t quickly then, and cut that suit

Into a hundred pieces, that it may never

Be known again.

Vio. A hundred? nay, ten thousand at the least, mistress; for if there be a piece of that suit left as big as my nail, the deed will come out: ’tis worse than a murder; I fear 'twill never be hid.

Phil. Away, do your endeavour, and despatch, wench. [Exeunt Violetta and Martia.

I’ve thought upon a way of certain safety,

And I may keep him while I have him too,

424Without suspicion now; I’ve heard o’ th’ like:

A gentleman, that for a lady’s love

Was thought six months her woman, tended on her

In her own garments, and she being a widow,

Lay night by night with her in way of comfort;

Marry, in conclusion, match they did together:

Would I’d a copy of the same conclusion!

Enter Brandino with a writing.

He’s come himself now. If thou be’st a happy wench,

Be fortunate in thy speed! I’ll delay time

With all the means I can.—O, welcome, sir!

Bran. I’ll speak to you anon, wife, and kiss you shortly;

I’m very busy yet: [reads] Cocksey-down, Memberry,

Her manor-house at Well-dun.

Phil. What’s that, good sir?

Bran. The widow’s, your sweet sister’s deed of gift;

Sh’as made all her estate over to me, wench;

She’ll be too hard for 'em all: and now come buss me,

Good luck after thieves’ handsel.

Phil. O ’tis happy, sir,

You have him fast!

Bran. I ha’ laid him safe enough, wench.

Phil. I was so lost in joy at the report on’t,

I quite forgot one thing to tell Martino.

Bran. What’s that, sweet blood?

Phil. He and his villains, sir,

Robb’d a sweet gentlewoman last night.

Bran. A gentlewoman?

Phil. Nay, most uncivilly and basely stript her, sir.

Bran. O barbarous slaves!

425Phil. I was even fain, for womanhood’s sake,

Alas, and charity’s, to receive her in,

And clothe her poor wants in a suit of mine.

Bran. 'Twas most religiously done; I long for her.

Who have I brought to see thee, think’st thou, woman?

Phil. Nay, sir, I know not.

Bran. Guess, I prithee, heartily;

An enemy of thine.

Phil. That I hope you have not, sir.

Bran. But all was done in jest: he cries thee mercy;

Francisco, sirrah.^[673]

Phil. O, I think not on him!

Bran. That letter was but writ to try thy constancy;

He confess’d all to me.

Phil. Joy on him, sir!

Enter Francisco.

So far am I from malice, look you, sir——

Welcome, sweet signor; but I’ll ne’er trust you, sir.

Bran. Faith, I’m beholding^[674] to thee, wife, for this.

Fran. Methinks I enter now this house with joy,

Sweet peace, and quietness of conscience;

I wear no guilty blush upon my cheek

For a sin stampt last midnight: I can talk now

With that kind man, and not abuse him inwardly

With any scornful thought made of his shame:

What a sweet being^[675] is an honest mind!

It speaks peace to itself and all mankind. [Aside.

426Re-enter Martino.

Bran. Martino!

Mar. Master?

Bran. There’s another robbery done, sirrah,

By the same party.

Mar. What? your worship mocks,

Under correction.

Phil. I forgot to tell thee;

He robb’d a lovely gentlewoman.

Mar. O pagan!

This fellow will be ston’d to death with pipkins;

Your women in the suburbs will so maul him

With broken cruises and pitchers without ears,

He’ll never die alive, that’s my opinion.

Re-enter Martia dressed as a woman, and Violetta.

Phil. Look you, your judgments, gentlemen;—yours especially,

Signor Francisco, whose mere^[676] object now

Is woman at these years, that’s the eye-saint, I know,

Amongst young gallants:—husband, you’ve a glimpse too;

You offer half an eye, as old as you are.

Bran. Byrlady,^[677] better, wench; an eye and a half, I trow;

I should be sorry else.

Phil. What think you now, sirs,

Is’t not a goodly, manly gentlewoman?

Bran. Beshrew my heart else, wife.—

Pray, soft a little, signor; you’re but my guest, remember;

I’m master of the house, I’ll have the first buss.

427Phil. But, husband, ’tis the courtesy of all places

To give a stranger ever the first bit.

Bran. In woodcock or so; but there’s no heed to be taken in mutton;^[678] we commonly fall so roundly to that, we forget ourselves.—

I’m sorry for thy fortune, but thou’rt welcome, lady. [Kisses Martia.

Mar. My master kisses as I’ve heard a hackney-man^[679]

Cheer up his mare,—chap, chap! [Aside.

Bran. I have him fast, lady,

And he shall lie by’t close.

Martia. You cannot do me

A greater pleasure, sir.

Bran. I’m happily glad on’t.

Fran. [after kissing Martia] Methinks there’s somewhat whispers in my soul,

This is the hour I must begin my acquaintance

With honest love, and banish all loose thoughts;

My fate speaks to me from the modest eye

Of yon sweet gentlewoman. [Aside.

Phil. Wench, wench!

Vio. Pish, hold in your breath, mistress;

If you be seen to laugh, you spoil all presently:

I keep it in with all the might I have—puh!

Martia. Pray, what young gentleman’s that, sir?

Bran. An honest boy, i’faith,

And come^[680] of a good kind; dost like him, lady?

I would thou hadst him, and^[681] thou be’st not promis’d;

He’s worth ten thousand dollars.

Vio. By this light, mistress,

428My master will go near to make a match anon:

Methinks I dream of admirable sport, mistress.

Phil. Peace; thou’rt a drab.

Bran. Come hither now, Francisco:

I’ve known the time I’ve had a better stomach;

Now I can dine with looking upon meat.

Fran. That face deserv’d a better fortune, lady,

Than last night’s rudeness shew’d.

Martia. We cannot be

Our choosers, sir, in our own destiny.

Fran. I return better pleas’d than when I went.

Mar. And could that beastly imp rob you, forsooth?

Martia. Most true, forsooth.

I will not altogether, sir, disgrace you,

Because you look half like a gentleman.

Mar. And that’s the mother’s half.

Martia. There’s my hand for you.

Mar. I swear you could not give me any thing

I love better, a hand gets me my living:

O sweet lemon-peel! [Kisses Martia’s hand.

Fran. May I request a modest word or two,

Lady, in private with you?

Martia. With me, sir?

Fran. To make it sure from all suspect of injury

Or unbeseeming privacy, which heaven knows

Is not my aim now, I’ll entreat this gentleman

For an ear-witness unto all our conference.

Martia. Why, so, I am content, sir.

Bran. So am I, lady.

[Exeunt Martia and Francisco.

Mar. O master, here is a rare bedfellow

For my mistress to-night! for you know we must

Both out of town again.

Bran. That’s true, Martino.

429Mar. I do but think how they’ll lie telling of tales together,

The prettiest!

Bran. The prettiest^[682] indeed.

Mar. Their tongues will never lin^[683] wagging, master.

Bran. Never,

Martino, never. [Exeunt Brandino and Martino severally.

Phil. Take heed you be not heard.

Vio. I fear you most, mistress.

Phil. Me, fool? ha, ha!

Vio. Why, look you, mistress, faith, you’re faulty; ha, ha!

Phil. Well said, i’faith; where lies the fault now, gossip?

Vio. O for a husband! I shall burst with laughing else;

This house is able to spoil any maid.

Phil. I’ll be reveng’d now soundly of Francisco,

For failing me when time was.

Vio. Are you there, mistress? I thought you would not forget that, however: a good turn disappointed is ever the last thing that a woman forgives, she’ll scarce do’t when she’s speechless; nay, though she hold up her whole hand for all other injuries, she’ll forgive that but with one finger.

Phil. I’ll vex his heart as much as he mock’d mine.

Vio. But that may mar your hopes too, if our gentlewoman

Be known to be a man.

Phil. Not as I’ll work it;

I would not lose this sweet revenge, methinks,

430For a whole fortnight of the old man’s absence,

Which is the sweetest benefit next to this.—

Re-enter Martia.

Why, how now, sir? what course take you for laughing?

We are undone for one.

Martia. Faith, with great pain

Stifle it, and keep it in; I ha’ no receipt for’t.

But, pray, in sadness,^[684] say, what is the gentleman?

I never knew his like for tedious urgings,

He will receive no answer.

Phil. Would he would not, sir!

Martia. Says I’m ordain’d for him, merely for him,

And that his wiving fate speaks in me to him;

Will force on me a jointure speedily

Of some seven thousand dollars.

Phil. Would thou hadst 'em, sir!

I know he can and^[685] he will.

Martia. For wonder’s pity,

What is this gentleman?

Phil. Faith, shall I tell you, sir?

One that would make an excellent, honest husband,

For her that’s a just maid at one and twenty;

For, on my conscience, he has his maidenhead yet.

Martia. Fie, out upon him, beast!

Phil. Sir, if you love me,

Give way but to one thing I shall request of you.

Martia. Your courtesies, you know, may lay commands on me.

Phil. Then, at his next solicitings, let a consent

Seem to come from you; 'twill make noble sport, sir,

431We’ll get jointure and all; but you must bear

Yourself most affable to all his purposes.

Martia. I can do that.

Phil. Ay, and take heed of laughing.

Martia. I’ve bide the worst of that already, lady.

Phil. Peace, set your countenance then, for here he comes.

Re-enter Francisco.

Fran. There is no middle continent in this passion;

I feel it, since it must be love or death,

It was ordain’d for one. [Aside.

Phil. Signor Francisco,

I’m sorry ’twas your fortune in my house, sir,

To have so violent a stroke come to you;

The gentlewoman’s a stranger; pray, be counsell’d, sir,

Till you hear further of her friends and portion.

Fran. ’Tis only but her love that I desire;

She comes most rich in that.

Phil. But be advis’d though;

I think she’s a rich heir, but see the proof, sir,

Before you make her such a generous jointure.

Fran. ’Tis mine, and I will do’t.

Phil. She shall be yours too,

If I may rule her then.

Fran. You speak all sweetness.

Phil. She likes your person well; I tell you so much,

But take no note I said so.

Fran. Not a word.

Phil. Come, lady, come, the gentleman’s desertful,

And, o’ my conscience, honest.

Martia. Blame me not;

I am a maid, and fearful.

432Fran. Never truth

Came perfecter from man.

Phil. Give her a lip-taste,

That she herself may praise it.

[Francisco kisses Martia, and then exit with

her, Philippa, and Violetta.

Re-enter Brandino.

Bran. Yea, a match, i’faith!

My house is lucky for 'em.—

Re-enter Martino.

Now, Martino?

Mar. Master, the widow has the day.

Bran. The day?

Mar. Sh’as overthrown my youngster.

Bran. Precious tidings!

Clap down four woodcocks more.

Mar. They’re all at hand, sir.

Bran. What, both her adversaries too?

Mar. They’re come, sir.

Bran. Go, bid the cook serve in two geese in a dish.

Mar. I like your conceit, master, beyond utterance.

[Exit.

Enter Valeria, Ricardo, and two Suitors.

Bran. Welcome, sweet sister! which is the man must have you?

I’d welcome nobody else.

First Suit. Come to me then, sir.

Bran. Are you he, faith, my chain of gold?^[686] I’m glad on’t.

Val. I wonder you can have the face to follow me,

433That have so prosecuted things against me.

But I ha’ resolv’d^[687] myself ’tis done to spite me.

Ric. O dearth of truth!

Sec. Suit. Nay, do not spoil thy hair;

Hold, hold, I say; I’ll get thee a widow somewhere.

Ric. If hand and faith be nothing for a contract,

What shall man hope?

Sec. Suit. 'Twas wont to be enough, honey,

When there was honest meaning amongst widows;

But since your bribes came in, ’tis not allow’d

A contract without gifts to bind it fast;

Every thing now must have a feeling^[688] first.—

Do I come near you, widow?

Val. No, indeed, sir,

Nor ever shall, I hope:—and for your comfort, sir,

That sought all means t’ entrap me for my wealth,

Had law unfortunately put you upon me,

You’d lost your labour, all your aim and hopes, sir;

Here stands the honest gentleman, my brother,

To whom I’ve made a deed of gift of all.

Bran. Ay, that she has, i’faith; I thank her, gentlemen;

Look you here, sirs. [Shews writing.

Val. I must not look for pleasures,

That give more grief if they prove false, or fail us,

Than ever they gave joy.

First Suit. Ha’ you serv['d] me so, widow?

Sec. Suit. I’m glad thou hast her not.—Laugh at him, honey; ha, ha!

Val. I must take one that loves me for myself:

Here’s an old gentleman looks not after wealth,

But virtue, manners, and conditions.^[689]

434First Suit. Yes, by my faith, I must have lordships too, widow.

Val. How, sir?

First Suit. Your manners, virtue, and conditions, widow,

Are pretty things within doors, I like well on 'em;

But I must have somewhat without, lying or being

In the tenure or occupation of master^[690] such a one, ha?

Those are fine things indeed.

Val. Why, sir, you swore to me it was for love.

First Suit. True; but there’s two words to a bargain ever,

All the world over; and if love be one,

I’m sure money’s the other; ’tis no bargain else:

Pardon me, I must dine as well as sup, widow.

Val. Cry mercy, I mistook you all this while, sir;

It was this ancient gentleman indeed,

Whom I crave pardon on.

Sec. Suit. What of me, widow?

Val. Alas, I’ve wrong’d you, sir! ’twas you that swore

You lov’d me for myself.

Sec. Suit. By my troth, but I did not;

Come, father not your lies upon me, widow:

I love you for yourself?—Spit at me, gentlemen,

If ever I’d such a thought.—Fetch me in, widow!

You’ll find your reach too short.

Val. Why, you’ve enough, you say.

Sec. Suit. Ay, but I’ll have

My humour too; you never think of that;

They’re coach-horses, they go together still.

Val. Whom should a widow trust? I’ll swear ’twas one of you

435That made me believe so.—Mass, think ’twas you, sir,

Now I remember me.

Ric. I swore too much,

To be believ’d so little.

Val. Was it you then?

Beshrew my heart for wronging of you!—

Ric. Welcome blessing!

Are you mine faithfully now?

Val. As love can make one.

First Suit. Why, this fills the commonwealth so full of beggars,

Marrying for love, which none of mine shall do.

Val. But, now I think on’t, we must part again, sir.

Ric. Again?

Val. You’re in debt, and I, in doubt of all,

Left myself nothing too; we must not hold,

Want on both sides makes all affection cold:

I shall not keep you from that gentleman,

You’ll be his more than mine; and when he list,

He’ll make you lie from me in some sour prison;

Then let him take you now for altogether, sir,

For he that’s mine shall be all mine, or nothing.

Ric. I never felt the evil of my debts

’Till this afflicting minute.

Sec. Suit. I’ll be mad

Once in my days: I have enough to cure me,

And I will have my humour; they are now

But desperate debts again, I ne’er look for 'em:

And ever since I knew what malice was,

I always held it sweeter to sow mischief

Than to receive money; ’tis the finer pleasure.

I’ll give him in his bonds, as 'twere in pity,

To make the match, and bring 'em both to beggary:

Then will they ne’er agree, that’s a sure point;

436He’ll give her a black eye within these three days,

Beat half her teeth out by All-hallowtide,

And break the little household stuff they have

With throwing at one another: O sweet sport!— [Aside.

Come, widow, come, I’ll try your honesty:

Here to my honey you’ve made many proffers,

I fear they’re all but tricks.—Here are his debts, gentlemen;

[Shews bonds.

How I came by 'em I know best myself.—

Take him before us faithfully for your husband,

And he shall tear 'em all before your face, widow.

Val. Else may all faith refuse me!

Sec. Suit. Tear 'em, honey;

’Tis firm in law, a consideration given:

[Ricardo tears the bonds.

What, with thy teeth? thou’lt shortly tear her so,

That’s all my hope, thou’dst never had 'em else:

I have enough, and I will have my humour.

Ric. I’m now at liberty, widow.

Val. I’ll be so too,

And then I come to thee.—Give me this from you, brother.

[Takes writing.

Bran. Hold, sister, sister!

Val. Look you, the deed of gift, sir; I’m as free:

He that has me has all, and thou art he.

Both Suit. How’s that?

Val. You’re bobb’d; ’twas but a deed in trust,—

And all to prove thee, whom I’ve found most just.

Bran. I’m bobb’d among the rest too; I’d have sworn

'T had been a thing for me and my heirs for ever;

If I’d but got it up to the black box above,

I[t] had been past redemption.

First Suit. How am I cheated!

437Sec. Suit. I hope you’ll have the conscience now to pay me, sir.

Ric. O wicked man, sower of strife and envy,

Open not thy lips!

Sec. Suit. How, how’s this?

Ric. Thou hast no charge^[691] at all, no child of thine own,

But two thou gott’st once of a scouring-woman,

And they’re both well provided for, they’re i’ th’ hospital:

Thou hast ten thousand pound to bury thee;

Hang thyself when thou wilt, a slave go with thee!

Sec. Suit. I’m gone, my goodness comes all out together:

I have enough, but I have not my humour. [Exit.

Re-enter Violetta.

Vio. O master, gentlemen, and you, sweet widow,—

I think you are no forwarder, yet I know not,—

If ever you be sure to laugh again,

Now is the time!

Val. Why, what’s the matter, wench?

Vio. Ha, ha, ha!

Bran. Speak, speak.

Vio. Ha!—a marriage,

A marriage; I cannot tell’t for laughing—ha, ha!

Bran. A marriage? do you make that a laughing matter?

Vio. Ha!—ay, and you’ll make it so when you know all.

Hee they come,^[692] here they come, one man married to another!

438Val. How? man to man?

Vio. Ay, man to man, i’faith;

There’ll be good sport at night to bring 'em both to bed:

Re-enter Martia, Philippa, and Francisco.

Do you see 'em now? ha, ha, ha!

First Suit. My daughter Martia!

Martia. O my father! your love and pardon, sir!

Val. ’Tis she indeed, gentlemen.

Martia. I have been disobedient, I confess,

Unto your mind, and heaven has punish’d me

With much affliction since I fled your sight;

But finding reconcilement from above

In peace of heart, the next I hope’s your love.

First Suit. I cannot but forgive thee now I see thee;

Thou fledd’st a happy fortune of an old man,

But Francisco’s of a noble family,

Though he be somewhat spent.

Fran. I lov’d her not, sir,

As she was yours, for I protest I knew’t not,

But for herself, sir, and her own deservings,

Which, had you been as foul as you’ve been spiteful,

I should have lov’d in her.

First Suit. Well, hold your prating, sir;

You are not like to lose by’t.

Phil. O Violetta,

Who shall laugh at us now?

Vio. The child unborn, mistress.

Martia. Be good.

Fran. Be honest.

439Martia. Heaven will not let you sin, and^[693] you’d be careful.

Fran. What means it sends to help you, think, and mend,

You’re as much bound as we to praise that friend.

Phil. I am so, and I will so.

Martia. Marry you speedily;

Children tame you, you’ll die like a wild beast else.

Vio. Ay, by my troth, should I. I’ve much ado

To forbear laughing now, more’s my hard fortune.

Re-enter Martino.

Mar. O master, mistress, and you gentles all,

To horse, to horse presently, if you mean to do

Your country any service!

Bran. Art not asham’d, Martino, to talk of horsing

So openly before young married couples thus?

Mar. It does concern the commonwealth, and me,

And you, master, and all: the thieves are taken.

Martia. What say’st, Martino?

Mar. La, here’s commonwealth’s-men!

The man of art, master, that cupp’d your eyes,

Is prov’d an arrant rascal; and his man,

That drew my tooth, an excellent purse-drawer—

I felt no pain in that, it went insensibly.

Such notable villanies confess’d!——

Bran. Stop there, sir:

We will have time for them.—Come, gentlefolks,

Take a slight meal with us: but the best cheer

Is perfect joy, and that we wish all here.^[694]

Ric. Stay, stay, sir; I’m as hungry of my widow,

440As you can be upon your maid, believe it;

But we must come to our desires in order;

There’s duties to be paid ere we go further.—

He that without your likings leaves this place,

Is like one falls to meat and forgets grace;

And that’s not handsome, trust me, no:

Our rights being paid, and your loves understood,

My widow and my meat then do^[695] me good.—

I ha’ no money, wench, I told thee true,—

For my report, pray let her hear’t from you.

[Exeunt omnes.

441